


Burn Clean

by savant (teii)



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 23:11:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2043813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teii/pseuds/savant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter frowns, pushing Wade back onto his side of the bed. "Don't. It's too hot."</p><p>So Wade mumbles a quick goodnight, and watches as Peter turns off the lights and settles in between the covers, facing away from him.</p><p>He still wants it. Wants to drape himself over Peter and cocoon him, to keep him warm and safe but he knows, knows well enough that this is what happens after 8 years of being together.</p><p>Still. <em>Still.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn Clean

**Author's Note:**

> A very nice anon left me a note in my dreamwidth writing journal saying they liked this and suggested that I add this to AO3. So I took a look at it, fixed it up a little, and here it is.
> 
> Please note that there is an Archive Warning that I am purposefully not adding to preserve the ending. Please proceed with caution.

"I love you, Wade Wilson." Peter whispers, on the other side of the bed.

Wade manages a brittle smile, and extends a hand out of his blankets, across the bed, onto Peter's cheek. Peter smiles, if a bit blandly, and lays there as the hand slips off of his face, down to his neck, and curls around his nape, with Wade's fingers skirting to and fro along the spine.

He tries to not be obvious about it, but after a few moments and Wade worming his way from his side of the bed onto Peter's, he frowns deeply, and pries the hand off, pushing Wade back onto his side. "Don't. It's too hot."

Wade nods, drawing the hand back into the warmth of his blankets. It's the middle of August, but they've cranked the cooling down to a frigid forty degrees Fahrenheit because Peter is very, very sick. And Wade is very, very much still in love.

So Wade mumbles a quick goodnight, and watches as Peter turns off the lights and settles in between the covers, facing away from him.

He still wants it. Wants to drape himself over Peter and cocoon him, to keep him warm and safe but he knows, knows well enough that this is what happens after 8 years of being together.

Still. _Still._

\--

"I've packed your swords. And lunch."

The air-conditioning is still on full-blast, and Wade staggers out from the bathroom, shivering hard as his nose starts to run. But he gives an exaggerated wink and slides across the hardwood floor towards Peter, stopping short of crashing into him. Peter laughs, and shoves a paper sack at Deadpool, who rips open the plastic and wolfs down the sandwich in two bites, sheathing the swords all the while.

"You're going to need to go shopping, there's nothing left in the fridge." Peter reminds him.

"Shit," Wade curses, bits of ham spraying out.

"Should I go outside and--"

"No." Deadpool cuts off, "I'll grab something. I heard it's going to be in the 90s for the next week. Just-- stay." _Please don't get any sicker._

Peter nods, once. Twice.

"I'll be back tomorrow," Deadpool promises, "remember to call me--"

"At eight." Peter finishes for him, with a quiet smile. "I wouldn't forget, love."

Wade busies himself with holstering his guns, to keep himself from grabbing Peter into a hug, his heart skipping double-time. Instead, he pinches a cheek, then graze the back of Peter's neck. "You better not, kid."

"I wouldn't." Peter says, quite seriously.

"I trust you," Wade replies, "just don't miss me too much, sugarbuns!"

\--

They had met at a department store.

As Wade tells it, they locked eyes, fell in love, and after a bit of talking, Peter came right home with him.

And in a way, he's not wrong.

\--

He's not calling.

It's 5 pm in LA, and Deadpool is wringing the blood out of his mask into the hotel sink. He checks and rechecks his phone, ruling out the possibility of daylight savings or the like affecting the time. By five-ten, he's had enough, and calls the house.

"Hey, Pete, you--"

"Hello, I'm Peter Parker, what's your name?"

"Uh. Dude, it's me."

"Hello, I'm Peter Parker, what's your name?"

Wade grinds his teeth, "Hey, that's cute and all, but--"

"Hello, I'm Peter Parker, what--"

"It's Wade! Wade! Peter, what the fuck is--"

"Hello, I'm Pe--"

Wade dashes out of the hotel room, leaving his mask and several guns behind. "I'm getting on the first plane back to New York, Pete, listen to me-- are you listening to me? Pete!"

"Hello, I'm--"

"Fuck!"

\--

It's very, very hot.

Wade's all but sweating by the time he makes it to their fourth story flat, and slams the key into the lock, struggling to open the door. By the time he makes his way in, he finds Peter crumpled onto the floor, still holding onto the phone. Wade crashes onto his knees, and quickly pushes his fingers onto the artery onto Peter's neck.

Nothing.

Wade keeps pressing, moving Peter's head onto his lap as he presses harder and harder, but--

A knock on the door.

"Hi, is anyone home?"

"GET THE FUCK OUT."

"Uh, but I'm here to fix the air conditioning?" The door opens, and Wade drags the repairman in, pushing him towards Peter.

"Forget that, help him!"

"Uh, I'm not qualified for this--" the man stammers, before getting a glock shoved next to his head, the safety snapping off sharply, "but I'd be happy to help!"

He slowly gets to his knees, and like Deadpool, presses his fingers onto Peter's neck, but with a twist of the hand and a small 'beep!', a small golden chip pops out from the bottom of Peter's nape.

"Uh, yeah, this is your problem-- it's, um, overheated."

Wade digs the gun harder against the man's skull, though his hand shakes. "Then fucking fix it!"

"I can't, I'm not even--I'm not bullshitting you! Don't you have-- like a backup memory card?"

"I--"

The man tugs down the collar of Peter's tee, inspecting the numbers on Peter's left shoulder.

"And he's like-- wow. Eight years old? You know there's a maximum five year warranty on the Peter Parker models right? You might just want to get a new one--" A second gun joins the first. "Look, I really don't know how to help you! I'm just here for the air conditioning!"

Wade looks down at Peter, crumpled and lifeless on the floor. His hands tremble, the shining blue eyes that he picked out for Peter all those years ago now all glassy and grey, 

The guns in his hands clatter onto the ground, as he pulls Peter towards him.

"I keep telling myself to-- but I couldn't do it, I couldn't just throw him out--"

"You don't have to, they have services that do it for you--"

"I have every right to shoot you, you know."

\--

The man leaves shortly after that.

Wade moves into the bedroom, holding onto the chip in his hands, turning it over and over in his hands. He stops, and sets it onto the nightstand next to the bed. Stares at it.

"No."

And with that, he picks it up again, and throws it in the trash bin in the corner of the room. He turns and gets in bed, scooting inwards until his hands find Peter's hips.

Wade smiles softly, and drapes himself over Peter's body, holding tightly. Peter feels cool in his arms, but Wade doesn't mind.

"I love you too, Peter Parker X377S0," he mumbles, kissing the chip slot at the back of android's neck before snuggling in, happy to have his Peter back.


End file.
